


Ablution

by fichuntie



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Frottage, Grinding, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Magic, Pining, Ritual Sex, Topping from the Bottom, does it count as ritual if they don't know it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:56:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fichuntie/pseuds/fichuntie
Summary: After summoning Amon, Ryo has to cart Akira home and deal with the mess left behind from creating the most powerful devil.





	1. Summon and anoint

**Author's Note:**

> set up. smut next chapter. wow, look. this show stole my shame.

Ryo couldn’t believe he’d actually succeeded. He’d never made something before. It was supposed to be the realm of god to create, but he’d done it. He had turned Akira into a devilman. He’d put the most precious human heart into the most powerful body. This body would be able to stay with him, no matter what wrath rained down on them. Akira would never be like the pitiful kitten; he’d never die.  
  
It was nothing to push the demon corpse off himself. His white coat was completely ruined, stained yellow. At least he hadn’t been stained with any human blood. He picked his way across the corpses, devil and human, stopping at Akira’s side. Akira had passed out after using Amon’s power and lay sprawled out on the dirty club floor. Using so much strength must have tired him out, completely unused to his enhanced body. He too was stained yellow, covered in visera. Ryo dragged Akira close to him, checking him for injuries. Ryo brushed his sleeve over Akira’s face. His crybaby was tan now, something not even hours of outdoor track practice had succeeded in. And his soft jawline had turned sharp. Even his hair was different. But to Ryo’s fingertips, his face was still soft and sweetly vulnerable. He lifted him up, heavier than Akira had ever been. He had to get them back to his apartment, especially before anyone else arrived. He patted his pockets, sure the camera was there, and then lifted Akira into a fireman’s lift.  
  
He hadn’t parked too far away. It wasn’t a burden to carry Akira either. He settled Akira into the back seat, putting his jacket underneath him to keep the leather clean. He didn’t like dirtying Akira further with the remains of the devils on the dirty side of his jacket, but it was only practical. He got into the front seat, threw the camera into the passenger seat, and started off. The drive was fast, lights flashing by.  
  
Once at his apartment, he carried Akira into the bathroom, putting him down in the bathtub. Ryo tilted his head. Now that he had Akira here, Ryo wasn’t quite sure what to do. He wasn’t exactly the caring type. The starting point was to get Akira naked and then rinse him. Ryo was already half there; the transformation must’ve destroyed Akira’s shirt and his pants were in tatters. Ryo brushed his fingers across Akira’s chest. He’d created these broad shoulders. His actions had sculpted little Akira into this devil. He pressed his hands against Akira’s six pack and watched the flesh ripple in response. He slid his hands to unbutton Akira’s pants. The contrast of his pale hands against yellow blood and bronze skin was overwhelming. He pushed the pants down and looked down at his naked creation. He couldn’t help his smile at seeing Akira like this. It was nothing like their childhood shared baths, and he wasn’t even distracted by Akira’s usual bashfulness.  
  
Ryo started the water. He’d never had a pet to care for, but he could remember how Akira had once cared for him. He was sure he could do the same for Akira now. He tested the water, warm enough to wash now. He grabbed a cloth and began scrubbing, rubbing his hands over Akira’s new body. With each pass, Akira’s tan skin became more apparent from under the yellow. His own hands felt soft against Akira’s hard planes of muscle, the occasional rough scratch of body hair on Akira’s chest. Akira spread his fingers over Ryo’s pec, pushing black hairs one way then the other with the damp cloth. Certainly rougher than a kitten’s fur. Ryo ran the cloth over Akira’s legs, feeling the heat not only from the water but from the boy’s body. Akira’s thighs trembled when Ryo cleaned his groin, verging on rough to get the patch of hair clean. Ryo could almost see Akira’s lashes flutter, but he remained unconscious.  
  
He shifted his attention to his hair. He knocked a bit of his shampoo into his hand, pushing Akira’s bangs back with his other hand. Ryo scrubbed carefully, pulling tangles apart. Chunks of flesh fell to the tub as he cleaned the black hair. The expensive scent of myrrh and acacia replaced the fetid smell of sulphur. Ryo dipped his nose to Akira’s forehead, barely brushing his lips against the crown of Akira’s head. They smelled the same, creator and creation. His fingers pulled Akira’s head back, exposing his neck. Ryo cupped water over Akira’s hair, careful to support his head. Ryo pushed his fingers for a final pass, wondering at the contrast in softness here to the other fuzz on Akira’s body. He scritched at the nape of Akira’s neck, carefully loosening the last bits of gore. Akira’s head lolled. Pliant and relaxed, Akira sagged against Ryo’s fingers. With a final rinse, he was satisfied. With the flush of accomplishment, he smiled down at Akira.  
  
He dried Akira with one of his towels, tilting Akira’s body in the tub to get all his sides dry. Akira mumbled a bit. His devil body was powerful, already recovering from battling so many demons at once. Dry and clean, Akira was something to behold. Ryo felt himself smirk, taking in the body before him. Even if it was hard to lift Akira out the tub, Ryo managed with an arm wrapped around his waist. He didn’t bother with the towel or stained tub. Jenny could deal with them later. The focus was getting them both to bed.  
  
He dumped Akira down on the white sheets. Ryo wiped his brow, a little worn out. The city threw light over Akira, sprawled out on the bed. Akira shifted a bit, pushing down into the soft sheets and turning to his side. Ryo took him in: almost vulnerable as worn out and mellow, yet still unnervingly strong. Ryo wanted to keep him here. He could soon. They’d have forever soon, enemies defeated together. Akira shifted again, grumbling.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira wakes up, clean but worried about what happened at the club. Ryo remains focused.

Waking up, Akira shifted to sit up, grumbling a little bit. Ryo peered at him from his perch at the foot of the bed. Akira’s arms trembled a little bit, but held him up as he shifted forward.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“You saved me, Akira. You destroyed the demons. We did it,” Ryo smiled.  
  
“I killed them?” Akira startled, eyes wide with shock.  
  
“Yes, you defeated the devil that tried to possess you. You have his power now,” Ryo twisted to sit all the way on the bed. His glacial eyes bright with excitement, he reached for Akira to wrap his arms around his neck. A little of Akira’s tension loosed as he caught Ryo’s weight. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this,” Ryo confided against the dark of Akira’s messy hair.  
  
Akira gently pulled away from him without breaking Ryo’s hold. He peered carefully at Ryo, one hand wrapping around his friend’s waist. His dark eyes didn’t dilate in the dark, clearly changed by the demon’s power. Ryo’s smile widened.  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
“Of course. You kept me safe,” Ryo answered as Akira’s arm tightened. Ryo pulled Akira close again, resting his face against Akira’s neck. He breathed in the deep scent of herbs and the mild hint of sweat. Akira hummed happily, letting his hands roam over Ryo’s body as though he couldn’t trust that he was really safe. Ryo revelled in the attention, shifting a little closer. He was almost in Akira’s lap, already feeling the devilish heat from Akira’s new body. Akira’s hands shifted under his white shirt, stroking at the base of his spine and settling there.  
  
“I - I feel so…You should go...” Akira murmured after a moment. Ryo peered at him curiously. The summoning had gone perfectly; Akira shouldn’t feel any pain. But then Ryo noticed Akira’s arousal, tucked between his thighs and so close to Ryo in Akira’s hold.  
  
Akira blushed, the flush barely visible on his tan skin. Ryo couldn’t help resting a hand against his cheek, remembering how visible Akira’s blush had been on his old human body. The boy always pinked up prettily whether blushing or crying. Still, Ryo could feel the warmth rise to his cheeks.  
  
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Even humans have needs like this,” Ryo murmured.  
  
Akira turned away from his hand, worried. Ryo pulled back, catching the glisten of tears fill up Akira’s eyes.  
  
“But Ryo, so many people died,” Akira teared up. Ryo wasn’t going to let some pathetic dead humans keep him from his moment of triumph. He knocked his forehead against Akira’s, frantically clasping at his face.  
  
“You saved me. This power will save so many more,” he insisted, “You need this. I need this.” Still Akira hesitated, only relaxing a little.  
  
Ryo could feel his arousal rise as Akira seemed to accept the sincerity of Ryo’s gaze. He knew Amon’s power could increase arousal, more even than the common demons at the Sabbath. He’d traced his fingers over the engravings of goat legs and ecstatic witches, imagining Akira filled with a spreading desire. But even his research hadn’t prepared him for the fervor that Akira was unconsciously creating. For the heat of Akira’s hands or hazel gaze. Ryo’s curls dampened with sweat.  
  
“Please, I need it too. I need you,” Ryo finished, insistent.  
  
Akira surged up, kissing him. The hands under Ryo’s shirt, pulled him in possessively. Ryo could feel the press of sharp nails against the flesh of his back and sighed into the kiss. Akira pushed his tongue into Ryo’s mouth. Ryo leaned into it, running his own tongue over Akira’s sharpening canines. The two gasped into each others mouths, stoking each other’s desire. Ryo licked at Akia’s bottom lip, then verged to Akira’s cheek to catch the hint of salt from tears. He could soothe Akira, if in a different way than he always had after past tears. He unclasped his arms, fingers spreading across Akira’s neck, broad shoulders, lingering a little over the raised flesh where Akira’s wings sprang.  
  
Akira shuddered at the attention, his own hands not just resting but pressing Ryo closer. Ryo pushed him down to the bed by the shoulders as Akira’s core strength made the descent smooth. Ryo swung his legs over Akira’s waist. He peered down at his creation. He had the power of a demon below him, naked between his jean-clad legs. He ran his hands over Akira’s pecs, still marveling at the thick black hair. Before they’d been matched as delicate and nearly hairless, but now Akira was so different. Ryo ran his nails over Akira’s chest, hard, but no redness sprung in his path. Akira tightened his hold on Ryo’s waist.  
  
Ryo could feel Akira’s erection press against him. Hot, Ryo felt hot. He ground back, using Akira’s chest as leverage and tangling his fingers against Akira. He had a prince of demons naked under him, whimpering into his white sheets and pressing against his ass. Ryo had made crybaby Akira kill for him and now he’d remade every part of Akira’s body for his pleasure. Ryo shivers helplessly at the thought as Akira ground up. Ryo was the one who would burn up the weakness in Akira and keep him cared for.  
  
Akira’s hands shift under his shirt. Just one hand covers the expanse of his stomach. They grab the tails of his shirt, ruched up. Akira pulls before Ryo can even stop him. He rips the shirt off of Ryo as talon-like fingers tattering it.  
  
“That was a fucking Yohji shirt,” Ryo hissed. Akira smirked up at him, canines glinting in the low light of the bedroom.  
  
“I don’t give a fuck,” he growled back as he pushed the sleeves down Ryo’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taking your time is important ok  
> [my tumblr is fichuntie](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

Akira was salivating at the sight of Ryo: pale torso against the view of the night, milky thighs framing Akira’s own golden skin, the flicker of blue around dilated pupils. Each detail was perfect even in the low light from his improved vision. And each detail brought their new contrast to attention. At least Akira had Ryo to guide him through the changes, as surely as he’d guided him through so many other things. Seeing Ryo’s placid features transform to pleasure as he ground down on Akira’s cock was almost as good as the plush ass to rut against.  
  
He reached up a hand to twitch the pebble of Ryo’s nipple. Ryo looked down his nose at Akira’s hand, lashes shuttering.  
  
“Akira,” he moaned, pushing into the pressure and heat of the large hand. Akira squeezed Ryo’s pec, a muscular handful with the hardening nipple. Akira switched to the other, mirroring the gentle scratch Ryo had used on him, and groaned at the sight of the Ryo throwing his head back. Akira could feel the flush spreading down Ryo’s chest, following his hand. There’s a perfect curve from the tendons of his neck to the curve of his leaking cock. Akira traces down it, feeling Ryo warm under his touch, until he wraps his hand against the wet heat of Ryo’s cock still trapped in white jeans. Ryo mewls at feeling, pushing first into Akira’s open palm then grinding down again on his cock.  
  
“Get out of them before I rip ‘em too,” Akira warned. He gave a warning squeeze at Ryo’s flank before making a grab at his ass.  
  
Ryo’s eyes narrow, icy, as he pauses the push back against Akira. He lifts up, using just his thighs as he unbuttons his pants. Akira can only look up at the perfect wonder of Ryo, reaching out as Ryo continues to undress. Maybe the club drugs are still in his system, because Akira feels drunk on the sight of Ryo’s cock peeking out from the zipper of his jeans. Akira’s never felt this warm, blurred at the edges where he touches Ryo’s. There’s so much precome at the head of Ryo’s cock, enough to coat Akira fingers and slide down the flushed length easily. Ryo’s always been the one in control, even of their childish games and ready to supply explanation. But now Ryo’s dumb with the pleasure of Akira’s hand around his cock, struggling a little to push jeans down over the swell of his ass without losing the heat of Akira.  
  
Ryo finally manages to get his jeans off with a tumble to the side, feeling a little cooler for it. Still Amon’s heat was like the attention of the sun. It was all for him. He stretched away from Akira to his nightstand. After a little riffling, he’s throwing a bottle at Akira’s face. Clearly, still upset about the shirt.  
  
Akira catches it, a bit wide eyed, before realizing what it is. He dribbles a little lube on his fingers as Ryo settles back across his groin, a little eager to feel the tip of his cock brush against the base of Ryo’s. He grabs the two of them; his hand is now large enough to grasp them both. With only a few pumps, it’s almost too much. Ryo’s whimpering, twitching against his cock as precome and lube drips between them. Ryo can’t believe that Akira has the patience to tease him, sticky fingers sliding down between his ass cheeks but only tapping his entrance.  
  
Finally, Akira pushed into him, twisting his finger into the plush tightness. Ryo pushed back, groaning. Ryo opens up to him, lets his finger in deep like he’s been waiting for it.  
  
“Is that enough, Ryo?”  
  
Ryo tilted his head down, glancing down at his own cock. Untouched even in the teasing. He peered up at Akira from his lashes with his little mouth in a pout. Akira pushes a second finger in, pistoning them, as his other hand returned to the hard bud of Ryo’s nipple. The feel of the slick hole around his fingers, as he crooks it and fuck it in, makes Akira thrust up his hips. Akira needs to remember exactly what they’re working towards, what Ryo’s body will suck in as greedily as it does his fingers.  
  
“Are my fingers enough?” Akira twists up, tapping against the bundle of nerves then pulling back to stretch his fingers just inside Ryo’s rim.  
  
The moue of Ryo’s mouth opens up to let out another whimper even as his eyes slide closed.  
  
“No, it’s not. Give it to me,” Ryo manages; his golden brows pinch together when Akira pushes a third finger in.  
  
“Not that,” Ryo growls, pushing down hard and leaning down over Akira. His long fingers tangle in Akira’s hair, tugging his head back.  
  
“Fuck me,” Ryo tucks his face in against Akira’s neck, panting and breathing in the same air they’ve made smell like sweat and herbs. Akira can’t wait, can’t hold back the burning desire in him or the growing power in his body. He pulls his fingers out of Ryo’s body, and he feels Ryo shudder with the loss, arching like a cat then going almost limp, and the fingers fall out his black hair to grasp his shoulders as Akira flips them over.  
  
Finally, he pushes his dick into Ryo, one hand guiding the length. There’s so much more now with this demon body. His dick is thicker, longer, curves almost like a toy, but still seems to dribble precome into Ryo’s body prodigiously. Ryo’s trembling against the sheets of the bed, gold hair haloed out as he blinks quickly. Almost as if the overwhelming feeling has brought him to tears. Akira’s slow though, pushing in, so it can’t be tears. And Ryo’s still hard, pressed against Akira’s happy trail. Fully seated in Ryo’s accommodating body, Akira holds for seconds before pulling back.  
  
“Are you alright?” Akira manages. Ryo nods, determined expression.  
  
He thrusts back in, a little faster than the first push. Ryo twists in the sheets, a leg lifting up to wrap against Ryo’s ass encouragingly. They’re plastered together, chest to chest. Ryo can nuzzle into Akira’s neck, nibble at the black triangles on his shoulders to pull a harsh thrust from Akira even as he tries to go a slow. Akira can feel him open up, open around him. Akira can push his face against Ryo’s lithe chest, biting warningly at each nipple in turn. Ryo mewls at the attention, tightening around Akira at each nip.  
  
Sweltering between the two, they build a rhythm. The pace is brutal, a demon’s power behind them. Akira groans, filling Ryo up each time and feeling the clutch of little body under him. Ryo’s sticky, no longer pristine, and precome slides over his cock as it rubs on Akira’s flat abs. It bounces a little with the force of Akira’s thrusts until Akira wraps a hand around him. Ryo holds tighter at his shoulders and Akira’s spurred to pump him. It must be heavenly for Ryo, having such tight heat around his cock and so much warmth pushing deep into him too, because it feels so good for Akira with just the musk of sex between them and Ryo’s body. Leaking and panting as each push hits Ryo’s prostate, as Ryo tightens around him, Akira feels his tension pulse higher.  
  
Filthy as it is, Akira knows he’s going to come soon. It’s an ecstasy to thrust into Ryo, for both of them. Ryo’s full, head thrown back and eyes finally thrown wide. Ryo, desperate, whines as Akira squeezes his cock. He tightens around Akira. Together, they’re at the precipice.  
  
“Akira, now’s your chance. Akira!” Ryo growls, as he comes in Akira’s hand and that’s enough. There’s a silence shout on his lips as he pumps hard into Ryo, pelvis grinding deep. Akira’s never come so hard, so much. It’s pulses of pleasure between them. It’s trickling out of Ryo’s hole even as Akira keeps going. Ryo is arched, shivering with the overstimulation from his own orgasm. The sensation of coming is so good for Akira, better than before Amon, and he can barely believe when his orgasm ends.  
  
Akira collapses to the side, softer again. He might not be clean, but the smell of him and Ryo is comforting to something new inside of him. Sated, he curls around Ryo. It’s nice to be bigger now, wrapping the smaller boy in his tawny arms. Ryo grins against him, eyes a bright pleased blue. Moments later, Akira’s snoring.  
  
Ryo cards his fingers through Akira’s hair, pleased. Akira’s his, sweet soul tucked away in the devilman’s strength. Even if his eyes might fill with tears, he’d never have to be scared or cry out in pain. Nothing could defeat Amon, not in all of hell or here on earth. So nothing could defeat Akira and Ryo together. And they are bound together now. Humans could build tools to defeat their fears, out pace animals, and even cut down demons. Ryo had seen the way humans were made from dirt, a museum of disease and a temple of fears. Akira had always been different. Akira was remade in gold, molded by Amon’s heat and strength. A precious treasure, a love that only Ryo had recognized before. Ryo and Akira would reshape the world, exactly to plan, and exterminate the demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // Yes. The plan. The plan for akira. The plan chosen especially to protect akira, akira fudo. That plan?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [trash tumblr link](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> [here's my fic tumblr](https://fichuntie.tumblr.com)


End file.
